


Omake for Last Homely Hole

by ClassicalTorture



Series: The Extended Baggins Family [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, M/M, Omake, Piercing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:52:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassicalTorture/pseuds/ClassicalTorture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here is a collection of omakes, based on my other story Last Homely Hole. I take requests for them, so send me a message, and I'll fill it as soon as I can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This request comes from The Third Biker Scholar who wanted an omake about Bilbo teaching Thorin manners. I went with the idea of Thorin's not so fortunate attempt at learning ;)

“No Thorin…No…No you cannot knock on their door with an axe…No, I understand that they will hear you better this way, but believe me: if you want to make a good impression, and you do, just knock with your hand.”

Poor Bilbo didn’t realize that often times dwarf hands had more power then their axes… On the other hand, as he helped Thorin put a new door on the Hobbit Hole of the Sackville-Bagginses as Lobelia stood over them with Otho and fumed, he couldn’t help but send a sly grin at Thorin, who glanced at him, and send a wink in return.

Lobelia fumed ever harder at the rolling laughter that spilled from that dratted Baggins, as her new door was finally on its hinges, and the old one stood in desolation in their shack, with a splintered hole in the middle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This request comes from Mimi_Sardinia who wanted nekkindwarf ;)

As Bilbo undressed his guest the turn of the trousers was finally coming. Looking at them with slight hesitation, after all, this was a complete stranger, and wasn’t this taking too much liberty? But in the end, the hobbit had a task to fulfill, and if healing this blasted dwarf meant getting him naked, then so be it!

With determination, Bilbo crouched over the slumped form and undid the intricate leather belt, holding up his pants. Putting that down, he reached his hands and wrapped them around the edge of the sturdy leather, and, with a heave, gave them a tug downwards. Wet leather is notoriously clingy, and it took a bit before they were finally off, and then Bilbo discovered that the dwarf’s smallclothes have also stuck to them.

And so he was presented, quite literally, with a face-full of dwarf cock. Now it was a nice thick thing, even limp as it was, but what intrigued Bilbo more, was the glint of metal he saw at the head. Unable to subside his curiosity, the Halfling leaned a bit closer to examine the strange adornment.

A dark metal stud, with a black gem on one end, was threaded through the head of the other’s member, coming out of the slit on one end, and right under the glands on the other. The gem glittered darkly as it sat atop the crown of the cock, and Bilbo couldn’t help but be a bit fascinated.

Young as he was, this was the first he had even saw, or even heard, of having jewelry in one’s privates. Hobbits ears were notoriously sensitive, and even the lasses refrained from having them pierced as he had seen on a few men. To see such a thing on another’s cock was intriguing, although Bilbo cringed as he imagined the pain that the dwarf must have felt at the procedure.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sometimes, when they’re walking through the market, Bilbo looks around and wonders. What if the Fell Winter didn’t happen? What if his mother did not perish, and leave his father a broken man, who only lasted long enough to make sure his son understood that they weren’t coming back again? Bilbo looks at a particularly well-crafted plate, or cup at the potter’s stand, and think how his mother used to linger here, grazing the wares with her fingers, telling him all about different kinds of clay one could use to make this or that.

Bilbo still has the little cup he had made for her after such a tale. It is very thick, has lumps all over, and can’t even stand too straight. He painter a few cheery sunflowers on its sides, and did a blue border on the rim. It took him a week to dry it at the sun, behind the bush in their garden, and then he proudly presented it to Belladonna.

 The cup took its honorary place among the rest of the pottery of the kitchen, and his mom would sometimes get it out, “special occasion only” she would say, and sit on the bench with him, telling him stories, and drinking her tea from the little loop-sided mug he made.

And then one day, when the winds are harsh against the glass and the snow is thrown against the door, he sees Kili, sitting in front of the fire place, with Thorin’s blanket on his shoulders, as he works on another trinket. Clever fingers dink against the metal, as he twists and turns his creation, slowly turning plain ware, into a beautifully inlayed piece of art. And then, just as he is about to go on his way to the kitchen, Bilbo’s eyes catch sight of a small loop-sided mug, with cheery sunflowers and a blue rim, steaming with something hot.

Bilbo watches mesmerized as the dwarf patiently crafts his ware, and then absentmindedly takes the mug and sips whatever it is in there, putting it down a moment later. And he is filled with dubious feelings, as no one had touched that mug in quite some time, and Bilbo was content to let it gather dust in the pantry. But there Kili is, and he doesn’t know what that item means to Bilbo, and what it means for him to see it used by someone he thinks as dear to him.

The hobbit doesn’t say anything, but slink out the room, and towards his cupboards. Next day he is not seen at all, and the dwarfs worry, but then he comes out in the evening, holding something behind his back.

With a smile the brothers are presented with two mugs; one, a warm chocolate glazed item with a splatter of green on the rim; the other, a warm yellow matte, with blue waves in the middle, spamming in a circle. Both are a little crude, but big, and made with gentle intent. And while Fili and Kili gaze at the presents in wonder and thank Bilbo wholeheartedly, he thinks about his third creation, still sitting in the room, waiting for its owner. Its bigger then the others, covered with a deep blue glaze, and a line of deep silver on the rim. It is the simplest of them all, but the one he had put the most thought into.

And Bilbo can’t help but hope that soon it too will have its hands holding it protectively.   


	4. Jealosy is a bitter pill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter requested by my Beta Lazzy16-V, who wanted a jealous Thorin directed at Bilbo/Bofur friendship

Thorin seethed quietly as he observed his friend sitting oh so cozy with that floppy-braided …usurper! Why did _he_ get to touch Bilbo with his shoulder and lean on him, letting their hair touch, as they smiled at each other? How come Bilbo let him take his hands, and let them be wrapped around by the dwarfs, as he whispered in the hobbits ear?

The regal dwarf was standing behind a tree, as he observed the hobbit and the miner together on a bench in Bag End’s garden. When he got to Hobbiton in spring he was greeted not only by his dear friend and nephews, but also a strange dwarf, with the braids of a commoner, and a floppy-eared hat. A _toymaker!_ Bilbo didn’t need no toymaker to make him smile and laugh. He only needed the Durins!

Next to his uncle Kili was demolishing a pastry with his teeth, as he observed his Auntie laugh with Bofur. This was not acceptable! How dare this stranger come into their home and ensnare their innocent little Auntie? Not that he’d even call Bilbo that to his face, but still!

While the two dwarves were in the process of grinding their teeth into stumps with their anger, Fili just sighed. He knew perfectly well that there were no romantic feelings between Bilbo and Bofur, and Bofur had no more attraction to his hobbit then he had to a rock. Perhaps less, considering the other was a dwarf. No, the cheerful miner has simply absorbed Bilbo into his little definition of family and took care of him as he would of a brother or a younger cousin. But try telling that to the two dufuses….

Bilbo meanwhile sat on a bench and enjoyed his newest friend teaching him how to whittle a wooden figure, adjusting his hands as they went, and paying close attention, in case the hobbit’s hands slipped.

 


	5. Cousin Ferambrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fell Winter is harsh and food is little. Requested by holyboots on Tumblr as something dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with fanart!!!!!! http://kissthea pocalypse.tumblr .com/image/41341867913

Fell Winter was hard on everyone in Shire. And one learned to adjust when faced with a life-threatening situation. The rations of food were gone, by orc or wolf, or simple overconsumption. So when one day Bilbo’s mother stumbles into the house with a sack, and goes straight for the kitchen, not forgetting to lock the door, and put a sturdy chest under the knob, Bilbo doesn’t exactly worry. He’s not allowed outside the house at all these days, and stays locked inside, making sure that windows are barricaded, and doors are always covered.

When delicious smells start coming from the kitchen though, smells Bilbo had almost thought he had forgotten; he is intrigued.  There hadn’t been any fresh food in a very long time now, and no way of getting it either from what he had overheard of his parents conversation.

So Bilbo slinks into the kitchen and watches as his mother stirs something in the pot, back straight, and arm occasionally stretching to the spice rack to grab this or that. He thinks he sees her adding a lot of herbs that help with tenderizing, and masking the smells, but he’s not too sure.

He does not ask her what she is cooking though, and goes back to his book, glancing over the closed and reinforced door on instinct. A few hours later he hears a patterned knock and hurries to the hall to let his father in.

The older hobbit is tired, covered in layers of clothes, and comes into the hole with sagging shoulders and empty hands. His face is colored with bruises, and his knuckles are bloody, and his eyes are dull.

Bilbo wordlessly helps him out of his many coats, and closes the door.

Soon their mother is calling them for dinner, and his father is slowly shuffling over to the kitchen. Bilbo is excited, he hadn’t eaten well in a while, and whatever his mom was making sure smelled delicious. He sits at the table in front of his bowl, swinging his legs a bit and watches as his father glances at his mother with sharp eyes.

Belladonna looks at Bungo straight in the eyes, and pours him a bowl of stew. She does the same for Bilbo, and then herself, putting down the ladle, and sitting at her usual chair.

They do not talk, and Bilbo digs in with a gusto, for the stew is hot, and full if spices and _meat!_ Oh he hadn’t had meat in so long!

The young hobbit does not notice the trembling of his father’s and the steady gait of his mother’s hands, as they both eat their portions. Or rather Bilbo and Belladonna do. Bungo clutches his palm over his mouth and runs to the cleaning room, and the sounds of retching reach the mother and son.

Bilbo looks over at Belladonna with a question in his eyes.

“Didn’t he like cousin Ferambrus?” he asks, eating the last drop and giving his mother the bowl for seconds.


	6. Figures in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spiders...they are such fearsome creatures...requested by ninjatwins on tumblr

“Take that and that, and that!” thump thump thump was heard from the back of the cupboard.

Fili looked at Kili who answered with a worried glance. The brothers crept closer to the source of the thumps and stopped at the doorway to the small dark room. Suddenly the thumping stopped and a loud crash filled the air. Kili jumped and clutched his brother’s tunic.

From the darkness of the seemingly empty space a moan called out. Just as the brothers leaned closer a palm covered in red, dripping to the floor in puddles clutched at the frame. It was followed swiftly by a body and finally a face.

Taking one look at the newly revealed figure Kili paled, jumped at his brother’s back, clutched Fili’s whiskers and using them as stirrers silently directed the other dwarf to run away in a gallop.

Bilbo looked after them confused, as he tried to wipe the remains of his tomato sauce from his face with his hand. Those spiders were really becoming a problem if he didn’t even notice crashing a jar in his haste to get rid of them.


	7. Mom comes a visiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requested by Ninjatwins

As Thorin was returning from the forge with his nephews an unexpected feeling o dread swept through all three dwarfs. He slowed down and looked at the brothers who returned his glance with the same trepidation. Silently the man of Durin line fastened their pace.

Stopping in front of the familiar green door, the trio heard pearls of laughter coming from beyond the wood. The dread in their bellies spread.

Opening the door tentatively Thorin ushered in the brothers, as they all followed the sounds of muted voices into the kitchen. The sight that greeted them put a few more gray hairs into Thorin’s mane, and made Fili stutter for the rest of the day.

There, sitting behind the large wooden table that all the Durins helped carve, was Bilbo Baggins, the “Auntie” of the house and Dis, the mother of Fili and Kili, and sister to Thorin Oakenshield. Both had cups of tea in front of each other, and a plate of cheese scones sat demolished between the two, along with a pitcher of cream and a jar of jam.

The hobbit and dwarfes were laughing at something or other, Dis covering her mouth in order to prevent spilling the lovely tea, and Bilbo clutching his stomach in attempts to stop the snickering.

Eyes opened in horror, the three men backed away slowly, as they silently closed the door to Bag End, and simultaneously turned their feet back towards the forge.

“I think that sword needs a bit more work…”

“I still need more copper wire for my inlay”

“My tools need sharpening…”


	8. Stick to what you know

Bilbo came into the room and hurriedly slammed a hand over his mouth, let no snort escape. Thorin was sitting in his armchair, with hands webbed in feet and feet of tangled twine. There was a knitting needle behind his ear and the second one was sticking precariously from the wall next to his uncle’s portrait.

Thorin was slumped over the back of the chair, feet stretched in front of him, and eyes trying to drill a hole in the back of Bilbo’s chair.

“What happened to you?” managed to whizz out Bilbo as he struggled to not let his laughter spill. The hobbit came closer and sat down on his hunches trying to disentangle the yarn.

“I wanted to see how you make them…” said Thorin, raising and turning his hands, still not looking anywhere but the chair.

“Aand?” prompted Bilbo, plucking out the needle from Thorin’s mane.

“The blasted thing is cursed!” Exploded the dwarf as he tried to rip through the twine, knocking Bilbo over on his arse in his haste. Bilbo looked at the raging dwarf in bewilderment and then his face scrunched up, eyes closing and lips trembling.

Thorin looked down in horror.

“Bilbo!...”

His answer was a rolling guffaw as Bilbo laid down on the floor and laughed.

“You my dear dwarf, should just stick to metalwork”


	9. Poor poor Ori...

“Ori” was thundered in the ear of the young dwarf while he merrily knitted another glove. The said youngster jumped and prepared to stab whoever was behind him with the needle. Thorin only looked unimpressed, as he glanced down at the pointy item with contempt.

“O-oh… Master Oakenshield, sir! What can I do for you?”  Stammered Ori, as he lowered the needle, and calmed down a bit. Although maybe he shouldn’t have relaxed too much from the looks of Thorin’s face, though Ori to himself.

“I see you have talking to Bilbo.” Said the stony dwarf, crossing his arms

“Well yes, Mister Baggins was very helpful, and explained a lot of things to me” answered Ori “ I had trouble with some of my knits you see, and he was very kind as to show me how to do them properly” Smiled the younger dwarf at Thorin who simply stood there and looked at him. After a minute of constipated silence Ori was sweating under the heavy gaze, and contemplating roots of escape.

Fortunately for the dwarf at that moment his savior turned up.

“Oh, Thorin. There you are. Listen I need some help in the pantry, can you do it?” asked Bilbo a little distractedly as he touched Thorin’s sleeve.

“Ofcourse Bilbo. Tell me what you need.” Said Thorin as he followed the hobbit.

Ori let out a sigh of relief and slumped against the wall of the room. Perhaps he should have listened to Bofur when the other told him to stay as far away from even the possibility of being seen alone with Bilbo. Especially by Thorin…


	10. Oakenspoon

Thorin comes back to the Blue Mountains in a surprisingly good mood. He’s tired, and dirty, and is weighted heavily with bags, but he is never the less more cheerful then either Dis or Fili and Kili and seen him in years. Then come the strange things.

  
When he walks through the door of their small rooms the first thing Thorin does is wipe his feet, and makes sure that there is no mud beyond the door step. Kili stares.

  
When it is time for dinner, rather a feast by their usual standards, their uncle goes off and comes back with a clean face and clean hands. Dis is bewildered and starts to worry.

  
Last straw comes when instead of grunting to their neighbors like always, possibly slamming a fist into their shoulders, Thorin actually stops and says hello, and wonders about Dori’s health, and brother. Dori is very nervous and tries to get out of the conversation as fast as possible.

  
His sister finally corners Thorin before bed and demands an explanation. Her answer?

  
“It appears that oak makes not only good shields, but also surprisingly sturdy spoons, sister…”


	11. Polish my pipe?

“Bilbo, have you seen my sword?” asked Thorin as he swaggered next to Bilbo

  
“Yeah Thorin, I think you left it by the door again; check the umbrella stand” answered Bilbo distractedly as he read a book on how to best cook smudge/elf/smudge.

  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

  
”Oh Master Baggins! Care to help me polish my pipe?” asked Bofur as he saddled next to the hobbit on a bench

  
“Sorry Bofur, I’m out of polish” apologized Bilbo “ But you can have some sandpaper!” Said he helpfully.

  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

  
“Hey there pretty thing” breathed Nori down the ear of his chosen target.

  
“I’m sorry what?” asked the bewildered hobbit as he turned around. Unfortunately he forgot that he was carrying a big piece of wood that Fili asked him to get for his carving. The log slammed into the dwarf leaving him breathless, as he fell behind some people, leaving Bilbo to stare at the moving crowd.

  
“I should really be more careful with this wood. And it’s only morning!”


	12. He comes in spring

When Thorin comes its spring and the flowers are just beginning to sprout. The ground is barren, and black, and ice is not yet completely gone. The trees still stand as naked carcasses, and no birds have yet returned. But there are patches of early apple grass that sprouts tall and proud, ready to cover the hills of the Shire as soon as it can.

As the dwarf is walking towards the hobbit hole, whose inhabitants have haunted his mind all winter, he spots something he had not at all expected. It is a lonely batch of snowdrop. It stands so frail amidst the snow and frost. There are two bulbs open, and two more waiting their turn. Thorin lowers his pack as he crouches next to the flower, running a callused finger over the stem and leaves. Its been a long time since he has seen snowdrops, and this is the very first one in years, decades even. And Thorin can’t think of anyone who will appreciate it more then the one he is coming towards.

When Thorin comes, the ground is barren and there is still snow on it. But the door of his home is still as green as he remembered, and the bench he made is still to the side of it.  He opens the door with his key and drops the pack on the floor.  Its early morning and sun is barely up, but he thinks he can hear humming coming from the kitchen.

Thorin wipes his feet, and hangs his coat. He carefully holds the flower and as silently as he can walks towards the voice. The dwarf stands in the doorway for a moment, admiring the view.

Bilbo is standing by the sink, with his hands covered in bubbles and the sleeves of his yellow shirt are pushed past his elbows. He is humming something cheerful as a kettle boils on the stove, and ingredients for breakfast are set on the table. Its set for three, with different mugs in front of each plate: a warm brown, a sweet honey, and a lopsided one with flowers on it.

Slowly, carefully, Thorin comes behind the hobbit and puts the flower behind his ear. He is answered by a spray of soap suds in his face, as Bilbo whirls around, and then freezes at the sight of his friend, dirty and haggard looking, with bubbles sliding down his beard.

And when the boys wake up and come to the kitchen, Kili clutching his blanket and Fili stretching his arms, there are four mugs on the table; A chocolate one with green splatters, a yellow one with blue waves, a little lopsided one with cheery sunflowers and a blue border, and finally a big blue mug with a silver rim.


	13. Sprained Ankle of Dooooom... for others that is

This is the first time that Thorin is going to the market with Bilbo since he came back. The dwarf had tried to stay close to his kin as much as possible during his time at Bag End, but he also almost never leaves Bilbo’s side. And so, when the hobbit feels that his pantry needs a bit restocking, he takes no protest and charges along. Not that Bilbo isn’t appreciative; he now has someone for heavy lifting, but still… Thorin stays with Bilbo from early morning, until he closes the door of his bedroom. And even that is done under Thorin’s watch who retreats to his own room; only after making sure that the Halfling is safe in his.

So when the short journey to the market is complete and the two are browsing among the lots and tables, Thorin is the one who makes sure that the crowd doesn’t get too close. The fact that he is almost a head taller then everyone in Shire makes that quite easy to be truthful.

But at one point his concentration wanes, as the dwarf is distracted by the blacksmith booth that had been set up at the heart of the market. It is a man from the nearby town of Bree who’s come to sell his wares and Thorin wastes almost no time in engaging in a discussion, scalding his work and technique.

Bilbo is next to Thorin, observing the wares when the man finally snaps and comes from behind the stall, rolling up his sleeves. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t notice the small hobbit, deeply interested in some trinket or another and bowls him over, making the other fall down quite hard and clutch his foot with a yelp.

Heedless to say, that has not been the blacksmith’s best day and definitely his worst fight, as he is destroyed and sadly rather pounded into the soft ground of Hobbiton, in Thorin’s effort to hurt the one who harmed his friend, and get to said friend.

Bilbo meanwhile was already picked up from the dirt by a few bystanders and is standing wobbly, with his left foot held up in the air a bit. It hurts, and Bilbo knows that he needs to go home, apply some medicine, bandage the ankle and make sure nothing disturbs him for a bit. The hobbit’s had enough of sprained feet to know how one feels, and this is almost routine for him.

Thorin doesn’t think so. As soon as the dwarf is finished tenderizing the man, he strides over to Bilbo and, seeing his position does what Bilbo will never live down, if Fili and Kili have anything to say about the matter.

He lifts the hobbit up in his arms and deftly depositing the basket of already bought goods on his lap, walks easily off the market, and back towards Bag End. Thorin doesn’t mind the pounding on his chest by said hobbit, or the embarrassed flush on Bilbo’s face, which he rather enjoys, and continues walking. Bilbo gives up after a mile and stops demanding to be let down, rather settling peacefully in Thorin’s arms and relaxing.  


	14. Chicken Clove Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> newbiepeanut asked for the recipe of Bilbo's chicken clove pie. Well I decided to give it while putting the happening in the middle of the current chapter of LHH. Enjoy the illusory sensations of the warm, delicious pie straight out the oven with our favorite dwarves and hobbit.

   Bilbo smiled as he reached into the wooden box by the stove and flipped through dozens and dozens of little paper recipe cards. Orange beef, sautéed duck breasts, olive stew…. Where was it? Ah! There we go. Chicken Clove Pie. It was his mother favorite, passed down from her own mother and to her from her ancestors. As long as there were Tooks, chickens and cloves, there’d been Chicken Clove Pie. It was a closely guarded recipe that had never been made by anyone outside the family.  For good reason too! This was the thing that made his father choose his mother and the one that she had prepared for Bilbo for his birthdays. It was a very special treat indeed.

   Slowly, the hobbit breathed in the smells of his kitchen, glanced around, and started creating.

   Get the flour our, sift half a cup through a fine metal mesh. Beat 2 eggs until they were a smooth creamy texture, and sift the flour in it. Add salt and a tad of olive oil. Powdered rosemary, to bring a hint of herbs to the crust. Hard cheese, gritted in for the smoothness. Pouring everything together, Bilbo rolled up his sleeves, and spent the next 20 minutes squeezing and palming at the dough, adding a bit of water to make sure it stayed nice and even. Putting the dough into a clay pot, he covered it with a towel and placed it on the warming oven, letting it settle and rise a bit.

   Bilbo went to the cold room and got the skinned chicken breasts out, bringing them into the kitchen with him, grabbing onions, garlic and a sprig of thyme with him. He then cut the meat into small cubes, while letting butter melt in the skillet. Soon there was a warm golden puddle in the middle of it and the chicken was cut. The hobbit sprinkled it with salt, grinded garlic and sage, crushing a few black pepper spheres over the tender cut. Seeing the butter starting to froth he quickly plopped the seasoned chicken into the pan and covered it with a lit, leaving a small sliver for the air to escape.

   Getting out his pester and mortar Bilbo went about quickly and skillfully crashing together a mixture of hazelnuts, walnuts and more dried rosemary. The stone of the utensil was rapidly soaked in the released oils and his nose was assaulted by the heavy smell of nutty and fresh aromas. Adding a few heads of cut garlic to the mixture, Bilbo checked the chicken, turning it with a wooden spoon, and letting all sides roast as he added crushed garlic to the melted boiling butter surrounding the food. Closing the lid once more, he went back to the mortar, finishing the prepared paste with a few spoons of the softest melted cheese he had, rolling his creating in a ball, and placing it next to the clay pot of dough in a small dish.

   Then the man took the tin can off of the shelf of the wall and proceeded to take out a handful of dried cloves, and crashing them in another small mortar, settling it aside.

   Finally the chicken was ready, lightly roasted at all sides, with the heavy smell of garlic waffling off of it. Turning the burner to low, Bilbo proceeded to empty the smaller mortar into the pan, mixing everything together and covering it with a lid once more. He then took the clay pot, scooping out the soft warm dough. Getting out his rolling pin he made quick work of turning it into a near perfect circle and left it at the table.

   Next the hobbit got out his oven dish, the porcelain one with deep high edges, and thick walls. He covered the inside with butter and sprinkled semolina in an even layer around it. Taking the rolled dough with steady hands he placed it inside, settling and pressing, making sure that no air pockets were around the sides. Covering the inside of the crust in another layer of butter he finally placed the roasted chicken inside, evening out the contents of the pie in the making.

   Grabbing the dish with the nutty paste off the table Bilbo took out a spoon and covered the chicken with it, making sure that an even layer of it covered the whole pie.

   Nodding to himself the hobbit took the tinder box and stuck a few clove heads into the paste and then took a thin wooden stick, poking a few holes in the crust and middle of the pie for airing purposes.

   Placing the finished product into the hot oven, he went about creating the buttery sauce for the dish while the heat did its job. Mixing together warm melted butter with crushed saffron and clove heads crushed as finely as he could make them, he stirred for about 10 minutes until the ingredients were well and truly smoothed and blended together.

  Half an hour later Bilbo cautiously opened the oven door, and poured the mix all over the sizzling pie, making a burst of smell hit his nose and seep into his hair and clothes. Smiling to himself, he sat the hour sand clock on the counter and turned the over to low.

   By the time the brothers showed up from their walk and Bilbo had set the table, there was a hot, aroma spreading pie, sat in the middle of the spread, and the hobbit felt that the talk about the party would really go well. 


	15. Suspicions

The brothers did not anticipate the company of another dwarf so soon after leaving the mountains.  And yet when Bilbo comes in and motions to person behind him to come in as well they are at a moment of complicated feelings.

Fili is glad for the presence of his kind. Being the only dwarf besides Kili in the whole Hobbiton is tiring, and even though Bilbo is amazing and they love him to bits, he’s not a dwarf, and doesn’t know all their customs yet, not that he isn’t slowly learning.  So he smiles at Bofur as he is introduced, exchanges a few greetings in Khuzdul with him, and slams his hand on his shoulder in welcome.

Kili is suspicious. He thinks that this newcomer stands a bit too close to their Auntie, and smiles a bit too widely at him.  He does keep his hands to himself though, so that saves him a few broken fingers.

Bofus just smiles, happy to be at a friendly person's presence.

 


	16. Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> announcement of an update

Last Homely Hole - Announcement

Dear readers and followers of Last Homely Hole. I haven’t been updating for the last few months, and for that I’m sorry. I think I lost my story line, and until I’ve found it again, the story is on hiatus. But! I would like to open a little window for all of you out there. Write the scene of the hobbit get-together, with grumpy Bilbo, protective Fili and Kili, and a happy Bofur. Post it under the Last Homely Hole tag on tumblr and I will choose one of them, and write the next chapter around it within a day. I hope to see some great submissions, and as a bonus: all of the submissions will be entered in the Last Homely Hole Omake story with the author’s names of course. Have fun!


End file.
